


Threefer Leather

by Anonymous



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Brother/Brother Incest, Leather Culture, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, Sibling Incest, Subspace, mild restraint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Three sections before and after the events ofgive to me yourandhell for. Atli's tastes change a bit, and Torgrim tries to keep up.
Relationships: Torgrim/Atli (Vinland Saga)
Collections: Anonymous





	Threefer Leather

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of messy anal and Torgrim having major anxiety about stereotypical molesters going after Atli when they're young.
> 
> Still @vincestsaga on twitter 👍

Their parents sleep on the second floor, growing up, and they on the first. The second floor has a double and a single room, and then the first floor another double. Torgrim was in the single for the brief time he could be alone and Atli couldn't, and after that it just made sense to leave the single open for guests. Neither boy's ever objected to sharing a room.

When he feels like Atli's ready for penetrative sex, Torgrim starts going out a few days a week. After shutting the front door loud enough to be heard, he nips round to the backyard and Atli lets him in the window to their room. They spend a while screwing in his little bed, stopping every few minutes to set the needle back on _Crimson and Clover_. Atli hangs his skinny arms over the side of the bed, body loose and happy in the afterglow, and grins at him as they try to cuddle afterwards. There's never quite enough room in either bed, but it's easy to curl up. As far as their parents know, Torgrim's popular with girls and Atli takes full advantage of the time alone. They replace a lot of needles and more than one copy of _Crimson and Clover_ , all without comment.

Penetrative sex is the last step—at least Torgrim thinks it is at the time. He's read up on all the right words in a library book, accompanied by a dictionary for things the book itself won't explain. "Penetrative" turns out to be regular fucking. Its purpose is impregnation for girls, and when performed anally—up the ass—there's a chance of internal tearing. Probably the kind of thing a molester would love to do, Torgrim thinks. It falls on him quite often to fill in the lines of what molesters actually do. His general impression is that they prefer little girls, but there's a certain species with a liking for teenage boys. Dirty old men who pull you into alleyways and make you do things. And then when they let you go, you don't even know anything was wrong, and that sets you down a path to be molested again and again. And when you present for medical treatment, it's too late.

Atli's in special danger, of course, because he's good-looking. And he's so earnest sometimes, it makes Torgrim worry. He has to be careful to teach his brother all about this sex stuff, so no one can ever trick him and use it to hurt him. He's so sweet and _yielding_ in bed, and Torgrim can't stand the thought of someone hurting him.

The thing molesters do, the most important thing, is they tell you before you go home that you can't tell anyone else. They tell you they'll kill your family. And you have to keep coming back to then. They get jobs as school janitors or priests or things like that. So when they get you, you're stuck to them. Sometimes the kid even starts killing or stealing for them. Kind of an Oliver Twist thing. That's in the movies, but it's true too. One of his mates in school has parents who own a translated copy of _Oliver Twist_ , and he circulates it around for a week or so because there's a gory part near the end. Someone suggests Oliver's probably getting diddled, and Torgrim laughs along with the rest of them until it occurs to him that could happen to Atli. Not the orphaning part—he's got a big brother to take care of him—but anyone can get picked up by some creep.

He always makes sure Atli knows this stuff isn't supposed to hurt. And that grownups are for looking, not touching. He's got a brother for touching. Atli likes kissing a lot, which Torgrim's pretty sure molesters don't do, so that's good. He'll know one if they try anything. The girlfriends, one at sixteen and another at seventeen, are less of a worry. Probably a good thing, in fact. Torgrim screwed around with a few girls himself. And two boys. The boys mostly to make sure he's getting everything right with Atli, but it was some nice fun. No complaints from them. None of them, girls or boys, are quite as sweet as his brother is in bed. So he was right to be worried about Atli after all.

Atli, for his part, is a bit cold after Torgrim moves out—that's when the second girlfriend shows up—but one night in early February he shows up at Torgrim's flat, complains about the heating, drinks more of Torgrim's beer than even family should feel entitled to, and weeps in his big brother's arms about how empty the old double room feels. Torgrim tucks him in, calls their parents, tends to his hangover in the morning, and gives him a half hour blowjob on the crappy little mattress that he's renting along with the flat. When he's scooped up the melted remains of his brother, he tells Atli, cuddling him all the while, that he can keep the girlfriend if he likes, and he can live where he likes when he moves out of their parents' place. But he can't exactly ask Torgrim to stay on for another year of high school when he barely made it through the last one. Atli sniffles and kisses him wetly and promises to be a man about it.

In July Torgrim breaks the lease on his flat—their parents might be suspicious at this point, but who cares—and moves into a nicer one with his brother, who's been single since March.

* * *

"Must be something like a wedding night," Atli offers, on their first night in a bed with room enough for both of them.

"Yeah." Torgrim curls his arm around his brother, marveling at how big he's gotten. As if Torgrim wasn't even looking all these years. And they still both fit in the bed. Being grownup men, together, is nice.

Atli sighs happily into his chest. "Do you want a wedding night?" he asks after a second. He must feel Torgrim's arm tense. "Only if you do," he adds, crestfallen.

"You're young yet," Torgrim says. "Let's not go tying you down."

"Hmm." Atli sighs into his chest again. "I wouldn't mind _something_. Only if you wouldn't either, of course."

"I don't want you feeling trapped." Torgrim touches Atli's shoulder, feeling around. "Anyway, what do you call buying a double bed together?"

Atli groans as he finds a knot. "Mm. No, I know. This was big."

"You can have all the regular nights you want." Atli starts to dissolve in his arms as he works the knot—he's _so_ good, he goes to absolute pieces for his big brother. He'd be helpless against anyone else. "Look at you. Like a cat in a sunbeam."

"Lower. You made me carry the heavy half."

"Heavy half of what?" They carried everything inside today but an ancient can of baking soda that came with the cupboards. Atli likes to find little things to whine about during the day, but if he brings it up in bed he's sometimes serious.

"Everything."

"Oh, yeah?" Torgrim digs his knuckles in and Atli turns his gasp into a long fake moan. Sometimes he's just a teasing little prick. "And how can I make that up to you?"

"Tongue up my ass." Atli's erection practically jumps into existence, jutting into his thigh. "You said that was for when I was grownup. And I just got an apartment with you."

"You'd better be in the mood for a grownup shower." Torgrim's more in the mood for wrestling, but he did promise. As far as Atli's concerned, apparently. He's already read everything he can find about this one. It's a lot easier to get his hands on books about sex now. He finally knows the proper term for putting your tongue up someone's ass, an act discussed occasionally by his friends but not one the medical books considered important. "That's called analingus, you know."

"I cleaned earlier." Atli nips gently at Torgrim's throat. He always has to be coaxed into biting harder. It'd be cute if it didn't have to happen while Torgrim wants very much to be bitten without prompting. "And I like mine better. Makes me think about your tongue."

They got messy the first few times they had penetrative sex. The medical textbooks were more concerned with possible injuries than keeping your sheets clean. Atli liked the whole first part so much that Torgrim bought what seemed like a year's worth of condoms, prepared to keep doing the sheets until he could figure out how to hide a tarp inside. They discovered enemas shortly afterwards at the same drug store, and the condoms were redistributed to his friends. Not all at once, but slowly, so it wouldn't look like he'd suddenly lost a girl to use them on. He got to be quite popular at school for a few months.

"Too bad you have to lose the sweat when you shower."

"I was thinking the same thing." Atli sounds pleased.

It's not surprising at this point when they agree; they've spent most of their lives as close as they can manage. But Atli still likes to feel grownup, just like his big brother. Torgrim grins and spreads him open. He'll point out later how Atli's butt arches up invitingly when he's feeling pleased with himself.

"Bite something, will you? I couldn't tell how much the neighbors can hear. Not your arm, stupid."

"I don't want the pillow cases getting messy."

"I don't want my brother's arm getting bit through. Bite a pillow."

"Fine," Atli says, chastened. "I wasn't going to bite hard." His butt lifts again.

He doesn't seem to have absorbed any kind of instinct for self-preservation. It's a bit frustrating. Torgrim's been trying to teach him this stuff for years now. At least he takes well to correction.

"Cfmph..." Atli lifts his head out of the pillow. "Could you... press down? Hold my legs, like you're not gonna let me up?"

"Why's that?"

"Dunno. I was thinking about it in the shower." Atli grinds into the mattress, making his balls shift. "Being held still."

"I mean, if you like." Torgrim does like making his brother happy, whatever strange thing he wants. Maybe he can't teach Atli to keep himself safe, but at least he can teach him to have high standards.

* * *

When they start hanging out with men who fuck men, it means learning a lot more about sex. Now Torgrim's able to let Atli know that he (Atli) is a dyed-in-the-wool bottom who likes being dominated by big men. Atli in turn lets him know that he (Torgrim) is a bossy nerd. After two weeks without sex, the agreed-upon terms are that Atli sometimes likes being dominated in bed by his brother only, and Torgrim isn't a nerd.

Atli took to the collar pretty quickly once they started the leather thing, but it's only since what happened that he's really started going for bondage. They had some basic stuff at home for rougher nights, but right now—well, it took Torgrim a few days to feel confident about the knots for this. It's such a beginner's setup that he didn't dare ask anyone at the club. There's a circular that he picks up there instead of giving their shared address, and he had to go back to an old issue for some diagrams.

It's worrying, but Atli gets so tetchy when he asks directly about this submission stuff. He'll say very clearly what he wants, but he doesn't want to talk about why. Or about what sex means now that he's been a rape victim. Torgrim certainly knows without even trying never to speak those two words aloud. But it's what that's called.

"You're sure you don't want sex?"

"Yeah."

Atli's been lying, head not quite in his lap, for about fifteen minutes now. His ankles are tied together, his knees are tied together, and his wrists are in the cuffs they've had for a while now. There's some rope around his tits and shoulder blades that isn't really doing anything, but took the longest to learn for some reason. His collar's on and his head's on a folded up towel, because he insisted on bed, with his brother present, and the only thing Torgrim can do is read, if they're not fucking. And he likes to have a pillow in his lap for that.

"You don't want anything?" Torgrim presses. This all feels very weird to him. Sex, he can read up on. People can't write enough about it these days. There's no book called What Your Brother's Saying When He Won't Talk About Sex.

"Fingers in my mouth," Atli suggests.

"I need to turn pages."

"Oh, yeah."

His voice is soft. This is something Torgrim knows. He puts a hand on his brother's head as a compromise and Atli lies there next to him very soft and quiet, even when he has to lift his hand for a moment to turn the pages. Usually this is a sex thing. But with sex, Atli—bless him—turns into a real bossy little bottom, even when he's like this. Now he seems happy to stay still and have his head stroked.

"You don't want the radio?" he can't can't help asking after another few minutes. Everyone at the club says this is a sign you're dominating well. But he's not dominating at all right now. It's just some ropes he stuck on his brother.

"No."

"Nothing at all? I can read to you."

"Don't feel like thinking."

A few months ago Torgrim would've said well, how's that different from usual, and they would've wrestled. And maybe he would've let Atli hold him down and kiss him, if he was in a rotten mood. He doesn't mind letting his brother be the ravisher every once in a while. It's just that now he doesn't know if they should talk about ravishing at all.

"What're you reading, anyway?" Atli sounds a bit more checked in now. "More of that horseshit?"

That's what he calls all the stuff Torgrim's been looking at. About psychological trauma and so forth.

"It's not horseshit. They're doing all these studies. Gathering data."

"You're turning into a bookworm." It's almost the cruelest thing he's ever said to Torgrim, and he follows it up with, "And you're obsessed with sex."

"Everyone's obsessed with sex. Look at you. Begging me to shove things in your mouth."

"It's not about sex. I just want something in there."

Torgrim doesn't want anything in his brother's mouth until they've done this a few times. It makes him worry. Although it would shut him up. Instead he puts his hand on Atli's head again, and the happy sigh melts his heart enough to forgive him, mostly, for the bookworm comment.

"You were right," Atli says, after a few seconds. "I like getting dominated. It's not just sex."

"Good boy," Torgrim says, out of habit, giving him a good squeeze under the ear with his thumb. Usually it would make him moan, but now he just sighs again.

"But this is technically in bed," Atli says. "And just you. Nobody else. You know, if we start up with other people again—I don't want anyone else ordering me round."

"We don't have to go after anybody. I'll take care of you if that's what you want."

"Dunno. Not right now, I don't think. I want you to myself for a while."

Torgrim keeps rubbing slow circles with his palm. It's nice to be talking. "Yeah? What d'you want to be doing for me?"

Atli sighs. "That's nice. Don't stop."

"I didn't hear you. What does my sweet baby brother want to be doing for me? When your big brother tells you what to do, the tiniest little thing, you always wind up... come on, sub..."

"....Sub....mitting. Bully," he says, a little out of breath. "Don't make me say it again. I mean, do, _please_ , but I'll get hard. I just want to rest now."

"If you want." Torgrim rubs a few soothing shapes into his hair. He's so good. "It's really not about sex, then?"

"Maybe a little," Atli says after a pause. "I used to have these dreams kind of like this. Not being tied up, but when I was a kid... well, not quite a kid. I was noticing girls. But I had this dream about going on a date, and you came along with us. And you'd pat me on the head when I did something right with her. It felt so good. It wasn't a wet dream, I didn't quite know what that felt like yet." He lifts his head to signal that Torgrim's falling behind on petting him, and Torgrim speeds back up.

"It was just nice that you were pleased with me. And I'd think about that before I went to sleep. About you cuddling me for doing a good job, and telling I could sneak in bed with you like when we were little. This is like that. Before anything was about sex. A really pure kind of happiness."

He's always been the sweetest little boy. Torgrim feels the urge to pull him up and give him a good full-body cuddle, but he seems happy where he is.

"Of course they did turn into wet dreams later. Especially when you wouldn't fuck me for _years._ "

"You were too young!" It's not like Torgrim was ever a pricktease. He's always finished what he starts.

"I don't know what you expected me to turn into, after you made me beg for months to get fucked in the ass."

Mutual masturbation is the term for what Atli's bitching about, now that fifteen years have gone by. He was plenty happy to be taught about it at the time. And everybody nowadays says sex is this full-body, tantric thing. It's not just penetrative. Atli would probably call that horseshit, but as Torgrim starts to rub his jaw he goes soft and quiet again, so Torgrim lets him be happy and wrong.

"What did I turn you into, again?"

"I like being tied up for you." He sounds half asleep now. "Feels safe. You're always good to me."

"Little baby."

"Your fault."

"No, you were always like this." Torgrim runs his forefinger over the soft skin of his brother's eyelids. "I used to do this when you climbed into bed with me. Seeing if you were pretending to be asleep."

"I liked it."

"Yeah. I could rub your hand and you'd drift off for the night." He might just let Atli go to sleep like this. Untie him once he's really out, so his circulation doesn't get cut off. "You never mentioned those dreams."

"Yeah. Well. I didn't want it to sound like you were _practice_."

"I could be." Torgrim's touch is lighter now on his head. "You know. Any time."

"What do you want me to do, strap on another three collars for you?" Atli's voice is sharp this time, straining as he pulls himself back into a normal frame of mind. "I've been telling you since we were kids, I don't want anybody else. Not for keeps. Maybe you're not married to me, but I'm married to you."

Torgrim shoves book and pillow onto the floor and lifts Atli's head and shoulders into his lap, transferring him very carefully from where he's been lying on his side. "Don't fuss, Atli, you know I can't stand you upset." He used to be able to, but these past few months have stretched him past his limit. More than that, he can't bear to be the one making Atli upset. "Come on, sweetheart. You're right, we are. Anything you want."

Atli's arms stay meekly in his own lap, as if the cuffs are weighing them down, but he turns his head and rubs his cheek against Torgrim's belly like a cat leaving its scent. Torgrim rubs around and under the rope framing his chest, making sure nothing's chafing.

"You'd better watch out," Atli says, after letting himself be soothed for a while. "You'd be pretty easy to dominate too." He shifts, complacent in his new status as brother-lover-husband, and delivers the final blow. "And it might do you good. You're such a worrywart."

This time it's three and a half weeks before they have sex again, but that's only to be expected in a marriage.


End file.
